Mr and Mrs Charles Bingley
by JaneBingley
Summary: Mrs Bennet proves herself "ingenious", when her schemes finally leave Jane and Charles alone together in the drawing room... A little look at Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley, from their engagement onwards, seeing as they're so sweet.
1. Alone in the Drawing Room

_Saturday 26__th__ September 1812: Mrs Bennet proves herself "ingenious", when her schemes finally leave Jane and Charles alone together in the drawing room._

* * *

And then the door closed, and they were alone, alone for the first time.

Neither quite knew what to do.

Jane's mind told her to play hostess; so it was her voice that sounded before his.

"How do you find Hertfordshire, Mr Bingley?"

He was startled by her words, her sweet voice, which silenced his thoughts. Oh such overlapping thoughts: how should I... when should I... will she say yes?

He heard her voice, captured its tone and melody, but his thoughts disallowed him to gather the meaning.

"Sorry Jane – I mean Miss Bennet – I'm sorry I didn't quite catch what you said."

Jane smiled. Her repeated words were serenely spoken, though her hearted fluttered. He called me Jane.

"How do you find Hertfordshire, Mr Bingley? It has been a while since you were last here."

There was a small sunken feeling in his chest. Yes, he had left, had left her. He was all earnest.

"As lovely as ever –"

Jane's formally lowered eyes looked up at such words and happened to catch his. He was looking at her, hoping she saw in his eyes, what he knew not how to say, though he told himself, tell he must.

He looked down himself now, ashamed; yet dare he hope?

Courage, man, courage.

And with a deep breath he began.

"Miss Bennet, I have done you wrong..."

Jane's sweet face expressed protest, for to her he especially was capable of no such wrong. Nonetheless he must continue.

"I should not have left..."

He looked at her most sincerely. She searched his eyes with her own. Did he mean...?

"I should not have left you."

Jane knew not whether to cry or smile.

"Jane, I have been an utter fool –"

With a wet half-smile, quiet but sure, Jane interrupted.

"You are not a fool."

"Oh Jane, only you could think me not." Charles exclaimed.

"I am a fool, a..." He gulped. "a fool in love with an angel."

A signal tear fell and a once small smile now beamed.

Charles heart flew when she smiled so.

"Oh Jane... I do love you so..." Oh lord, please tell me I am not too late. "Could you... Would you..." A needed breath. "consent to be my wife?"

He sat now serious, whilst she sat smiling, smiling with joy. Could she find her voice through so much feeling? Finally, but not before nodding, a simple action which left him with the same such smile.

"Yes... yes."

"Oh Jane." He moved from his seat. He wanted to be near her; so he settled on his knees before her and reached for her hands, which reached for his hold.

"Charles, I..."

She needed to say it.

He looked from their locked fingers to her lovely face.

"Yes, Jane?"

Just breathe.

"I love you."

Three simple small words, three little lovely words, and his eyes were wet too. Other words wouldn't do; so their eyes spoke, and softly, slowly spoke to their lips.

He could bear only removing one hand from her own by placing it instead on a warm cheek.

Her eyes fluttered at his touch. And, when they opened, saw only his, but then also his lips. His fingers sent tiny shivers with tiny strokes. Thus slowly he rose himself towards herself and their heads forward went, until tentatively, lovingly, eyes closed and lips met.

Such sweetness, such softness dwelt in this one bare and special touch.

His hand caressed her blushed face. And soon, though eyes remained closed, forehead came to settle on forehead.

"Mrs Bingley" He dreamed aloud.

To this sigh, she replied with a sound like silver bells.

"Yes, my love?"

But then his dream tinged, and his voice awoke dry.

"I promise I will never leave you again."

The bells quietened their chime, and one of her hands acted to mirror his: she placed lightly four fingers, then palm, upon the side of his sincere face. His eyes opened at her touch, as hers had done at his words. She wanted to make him feel better; it pained her to see him like this.

She smiled to reassure.

"I know. And I do forgive you, though truly," Her smile grew. "there is little to forgive."

She ended her words with a tiny tickle to his cheek, with wispy strokes of her fingers, meaning he had to smile too.

He leant into her hand and closed his eyes.

"How I love you." Sighed Charles in a voice most sure.

Jane watched him, this beautiful man; smiled at his words.

And soon spirited love lent her forward again to, with sweet daring, place a kiss and say:

"And how I love you."

Charles grinned. She kissed me, she loves me.

He steadily sought to stand, bringing his beloved along by the hand. She followed his move naturally.

Now these blessed figures stood close, in front of the hearth's setting glow; hand still holding hand and on each face was placed a ceaseless smile.

"I promised I would never leave you, Jane, but at some point I ought to speak to your father..."

Her fingers tightened oh so slightly on his.

"that is, if you'll let me."

She giggled. "Oh course."

Yet he didn't move from her. He wanted to hold her, pick her up and spin her, so she never stopped her giggles. But more than this, he wanted to kiss her; and he would have done, if the door had not opened.

* * *

Elizabeth's unexpected arrival caused each soul to rise to reality's surface. Both faces hastily turned around to her, each of blossoming pink.

Jane swiftly hid her grin behind bitten lips, though still her face glowed and her eyes continued to beam.

No hand was dropped or left, but each parted instinctively, each owner thinking they should be embarrassed.

They retreated from the hearth, and sat as they once did, with Elizabeth next to Jane and Charles opposite.

They sat so without a word: two being too dazed to speak and the other thinking the situation most awkward for herself.

Charles' mind was full of the sweet while he just spent with his Jane. It replayed like a dream in his mind. And then, with a silent chuckle, he remembered: he remembered there was somewhere else his Jane agreed, though first reluctantly, he should be.

He rose suddenly. As politeness dictated the others' act, swift, they stood too.

He looked to Jane to find her eyes already on him, her smile barely hidden. To her he stepped back towards and whispered:

"I will go to your father now, my love."

Again he saw her grinning and nod.

With this happy image secured safely in his memory, finally, so eagerly he seemed to run, he left the room; and left his beloved to awaken lively the next sisterly scene with instant embrace and, most sweetly, expressions of her humble happiness.


	2. A Delightful Evening for All

_Saturday 26th September 1812: Charles and Jane are engaged and it is "an evening of no common delight to them all", including even Mr Bennet, who, __when he joins the family for supper, __expresses himself happily ._

* * *

Charles could list forever Jane's perfections. He sat, perched on the edge of his seat – such was the ecstatic energy within him – and let half a year's worth of formally silenced thoughts and compliments now flow free; and to these, a smiling Elizabeth listened. Now there was no denying his love for her sister.

"I don't deserve such perfection." He came to say.

"No, you don't," Elizabeth teased. "but then you see no one does, though if you continue to describe Jane so lovingly, you will be more deserving of her than anyone."

"I hope, one day... Oh but, Elizabeth, your sister is an angel!"

Elizabeth laughed. "I am glad we are of the same opinion there, brother. It seems she shall get along quite well, if we continue like this."

Soon the door quite burst open and Mrs Bennet sprang forth, instantly filling the room with her own brand of professed joy: repeated and rather ridiculous.

"Oh Mr Bingley, Mr Bingley, Jane has just told me. Oh heavens, you don't know how happy this makes me. You are too good sir, you are both too good. Oh but you shall both be so close, only three miles between us! how I shall enjoy my visits to you. Oh to see my beautiful Jane settled!..."

Charles knew only that she spoke, but heard not her words, as, when Mrs Bennet had quickly entered the room, three of her daughters had followed more slowly behind her, including Jane; and his true attention was Jane's completely.

Jane seemed to glow. Her glistening eyes sought Charles' own as soon as she re-entered that happy drawing room. Her mother was already shaking his hands heartily, thanking him, congratulating him, praising his and her daughter's goodness. Still our lovers' eyes were for each other only, and so, though Mrs Bennet spoke on, sometimes with interruption by a merry Elizabeth or unconscious acknowledgement from Charles himself, neither truly were in that room. In body, Jane sat, with her Charles stood right by her, whilst their spirits both flew high.

When Mr Bennet eventually joined the family part, just before dinner, he too appeared genuinely pleased with the present state of affairs: his cynicism was limited and any sarcasm especially playful.

He had come to accompany his wife to dinner, but found his attention drawn to his eldest daughter, handsomely settled under the adoring watch of his soon to be son-in-law.

With a father's fondness, he observed them silently, that is until his wife addressed him.

"Oh you are here at last, Mr Bennet." She said, when she noticed her husband's presence in the room.

"It does appear I am." Replied her husband.

"Oh just look at them" Mrs Bennet waved to the room's other couple. "Is not is a handsome sight?"

Mr Bennet resumed his watch over his daughter and her lover.

Jane lowered her eyes shyly under examination, failing to hide pinking cheeks. Yet, as in reaction to the older couple, Charles had chuckled, within seconds she found her head raised and herself giggling too, for his self and laugh immediately reassured and cheered her.

"For once, Mrs Bennet, I believe you may be right." Said Mr Bennet with a smile. "But we cannot stare at them all evening, not when we have food to eat."

"Oh yes supper! I quite forgot with all this merriment going on."

Bustling up off a sofa, she secured her husband's arm and then turned to Charles. "Mr Bingley, I do hope you like crayfish, oh and hare –"

"Whatever you serve, madam," Said Mr Bingley. "I will always be more than happy to eat."

And so it was, with these words spoken, that the party gradually rose from their seats, some offering arms and some happily accepting them.

Indeed Jane sedately stood from her chair and was delighted to accept Charles's eagerly offered arm. Sure yet light, her hand lay on his.

This renewed touch was simple but wonderful: neither wore gloves, so soft strokes of fingers tickled sweetly. It seemed each body's breathing was shared through this small feeling.

Their eyes smiled to each other.

Slow were they in their movement from that room – so much so that, as they ambled behind, they managed a second, between rooms, out of sight of the others.

In a cute little sequence, Jane rose up on her toes, enabling Charles to press his lips lightly and quickly to the rose of her cheek. Their bodies stayed close and his lips lingered; she could hear him now whisper, but too briefly, of his love, to which she whispered an equally rushed reply of her happiness.

"I don't know how I ever lived before, without you, my love."

"Neither I. Oh Charles, how did I live without this happiness?"

But this scene must end too quickly, for there was no time to say a word more without being missed. Thus they stepped apart and, arm on arm, followed the way into the dining room.


	3. A Supper for Lucky Lovers

Charles pulled back Jane's chair for her. She smiled quickly to him; then took her seat. He took the seat next to her. It had long been this way, with Mr Bingley sat next to Jane, ever since Mrs Bennet had first invited him to supper a year or so ago. Yet back then they hands did not secretly touch beneath the table as they did now. Ten digits danced all through the soup course. Charles could neither tell you if the soup was white or brown, nor did he notice that he supped soup from a spoon held in his left hand. However, two around that table had far keener eyes; yet neither said a word. Mr Bennet and his favourite daughter settled for a small shared smirk.

Mrs Bennet was in her element: she was exuberant and merry, talking not nervously but out of happiness. Elizabeth was happy too. She did not need roll her eyes once, and could rejoice in the sight before her: her dear sister happy at last.

And Jane was most happy. The silver cross that hung around her neck lay on her heart, and she thanked the Lord silently for everything, but most of all for the darling man whose hand held hers so sure, whose eyes were for her only, all this evening and forevermore. Charles felt her thumb draw one then two slow circles on his palm – as her mind had drifted, so it seemed did their little dance. The circles she swirled were as light as fairy kisses and so Charles was gifted to delightful tingles that travelled from palm to heart.

Regretfully, with all soup supped, our lovers hands must part, for knife and fork require both hands to work. Jane's circles slowed, leading Charles' eyes to her own. Her expression was a sorry one though she smiled. She held his hand strongly a second, then too soon her fingers trailed from his. He smiled back at her with mournful eyes, but he understood. Indeed, he couldn't help admire her: here before him was further demonstration of her unaffected kindness and sense.

"Do tuck in everyone, do tuck in." Mrs Bennet said proudly with a wave of her arm.

The mistress, along with her servants, had outdone herself. With a proposal in the air, she had had some reserves put aside and tonight everything came together. Pyramids of crayfish glistened, along with hare cake in jelly, whilst hot steam rose from collared beef, petit pastries of veal, asparagus and artichoke bottoms, and sweetly stood strawberry soufflés, meringues and many marzipan fruit. It was a wonderfully laid table.

"Now my dear, I do believe this fantastic display is of your doing." Said Mr Bennet, taking a large spoonful of the crayfish jelly. Although he said such to his wife, he wished to see whether Mr Bingley's ears would catch his words. Indeed they did, for with cheer Charles was quick to profusely compliment the work of his hostess. Mr Bennet was pleased and pleased further when Jane seconded her lover's statement. It seemed the pair, though overly enamoured, could still be sensible.

Jane was proud of her Charles for his demonstrated civility to her family, as was her mother.

"Thank you, Mr Bingley, you are too kind. It wasn't much to-do, but I must admit I whispered a word or two to our cook about tonight's meal."

"Well it's marvellous, Mrs Bennet." Said Charles.

Mr Bennet's eyes sparkled, as he then spoke.

"Does that mean, Mr Bingley, we may see you sat at our table again soon?"

Charles smiled to Jane, showing off his own twinkling eyes, before responding to her father.

"I believe you may, Sir. You understand I visit merely for the marvellous suppers and nothing else."

"Nothing else?" Replied Mr Bennet.

"Not that I can think of." Said Mr Bingley.

"Well that is a strange thing," Said Mr Bennet "For I can think of many reasons; in fact one young lady in particular comes to mind."

He raised his eyebrows to his daughters, who giggled at their play, which surely would have soon faded, if Elizabeth had not now wished to join.

"Papa" Said she, with feigned ignorance. "Why which young lady do you mean?"

Mr Bennet was delighted to be able to continue the conversation in his own style.

"Mr dear Elizabeth, I have heard rumour our Mr Bingley is engaged."

"Engaged to whom, Papa?"

"Why cannot you guess? She is a most beautiful young lady; indeed some say she is the most beautiful lady in the neighbourhood." As he spoke, he quickly stole a glance of his eldest daughter and was gladdened to see she blushed and smiled. He continued. "Her hair is like a golden halo and her eyes, they say, are really sapphires. And she is not only beautiful, but kind too, oh yes so very kind, and humble, and sweetly spoken. I do believe Mr Bingley is a very lucky man."

Mr Bingley spoke now, not in play, but in earnest. Looking to his Jane, he corrected Mr Bennet's speech: "I am not a lucky man, Sir; I do believe I am the luckiest of all men." He wished to reach again for his love's nearest hand. And this longing left him with an empty chest. Jane's own chest ached at his words. Now she could not speak of her feelings through touch, she must to brave and speak openly of them with words. Quietly but sure did she profess.

"And I, Sir, am the luckiest of all women."

To such sweetness, Mrs Bennet responded in raptures.

"Oh my loves!" She was heard to exclaim, before the rest of her words were lost behind the frills of her handkerchief, as she sought to blot an escape of tears.

"There there Mrs Bennet" Said her husband from across the table. "You do not want your soufflé to be soggy."

Mrs Bennet snuffles ceased with a short snort of laughter.

"No Mr Bennet, I do not.

Mr Bennet turned to his neighbour. "Mr Bingley, I must recommend the soufflé, they are not soggy in the least."

Mr Bingley laughed.

"I am glad to hear it, Sir."


	4. Some Time Together

After supper Mr Bennet willing forwent the usual manly port, allowing a happy Mr Bingley to join his wife and daughters in the drawing room.

When in the drawing room, the seating arrangement was not a surprising one. Mary had retreated to her piano stool, whilst Kitty snuggled safely on a soft window seat, some unfinished bonnet on her lap. Jane and Bingley sat close in front the hearth as they had done not long before. Elizabeth sat with a book in her hands, though in truth her attention often strayed between the lovers in front the fire and her mother's great pleasure in the sight.

Elizabeth's watch on her mother turned to curiosity, when she saw a sudden sparkle in her eyes. Mrs Bennet spoke promptly.

"Kitty, my dear," Kitty raised her eyes to her mother. "You look positively ready for bed, snuggled up in that corner. You ought to go up soon before you fall asleep, we do not mind if you do."

But such words had not more meaning to Kitty than say winking.

"Oh I am not tired Mamma."

Mrs Bennet sighed.

"Oh well my dear, if you do soon, free feel to go up."

Now it seemed for once Elizabeth must play along not with her father but her mother. Jane and Mr Bingley would not reject to some time alone together.

She put her down her book and spoke.

"Mamma, I must admit to be feeling rather fatigued, if you do not mind I would retire to my chamber."

"Oh yes of course Lizzy, do. Kitty will not be long behind I am sure."

"Actually Mamma, if Kitty could help me to bed, I would be grateful."

"Of course, of course. Kitty, go with your sister."

A confuddled Kitty slid off the window seat, with questioning eyes set upon her sister. Elizabeth took her arm and whispered.

"I will explain upstairs."

They both hastened goodnights to the others and closed the drawing room door quietly behind them.

"What was all that about Lizzy?" Inquired Kitty, as they mounted the stairs.

Elizabeth's eyes shone and she began.

* * *

A soft harmony drifted from piano keys. Mrs Bennet was unkeen to put end to these melodies, for she felt they added romantically to the scene. Yet Jane and Mr Bingley spoke too civil in company. Still they took pain to be polite, to bring Mrs Bennet into their conversation or to praise Mary's playing.

As Mrs Bennet grew more frustrated, so did her inclination to intercede.

She silently rose from her seat and tiptoed over to Mary, hoping not to be noticed by the couple by the hearth. Fortunately she managed to catch Mary's eye and mouth a need for her exit. Mary shared her younger sister's confusion, if with a tint of her mother's irritation. Nonetheless, she followed her mother out the room, without a word.

Mrs Bennet made an apology to Jane and Charles with little explanation. Such was instead to make hint to their renewed state of privacy.

"Pray excuse us." This was the little Mrs Bennet uttered as she ushered Mary from the room.

"Of course, Mamma." Chimed from Jane's sweet lips.

With the close of the door, Jane's eyes came to gently travel around the room. She was surprised to see only Charles before her, who seemed yet to realise himself.

"I hope your sister is alright. She looked a little flustered, as your mother escorted her from the room."

Jane could not help but draw her hand to her mouth and giggle. They had been tricked again by her mother and in the space of one day.

"Jane?"

She looked up and seeing her poor Charles perplexed, she sought composure. She shook her head, stifling a few last giggles.

"Oh Charles, your concern does your credit. I am sure, though, that Mary is fine. I think Mamma merely... I think she wished for us to have some time together..."

Charles still looked in the dark.

"Some time together... alone."

He turned and surveyed the room, surprised to find it empty bar themselves. He chuckled.

"Jane, I must thank your Mamma someday."

Jane smiled.

"I believe she would like that."

* * *

After the short quiet which follows laughter, Charles readied himself. Soon Jane found herself following him with her eyes, as he stood from his seat opposite herself and joined her on the sofa. She turned to him, feeling an odd mixture of calm and excitement. Yet, she saw _his_ hands fumbling. Disinclined, as she was, to see her beloved unsettled, she placidly reached out her hands to his. With her touch, Charles instinctively relaxed. He weaved his fingers through hers most delicate and allowed his eyes to meet her fair own.

"If you do not mind, I would go to the church early tomorrow morning and speak to the reverend."

"So that he may read the banns?" Jane inquired.

Charles smiled.

"So that he may read the banns."

Jane's smile mirrored his.

"I do not mind, my love." She paused. "Should I?"

Charles chuckled.

"No... I... Oh I do not know. Perhaps... Will not you want more time to pick out a wedding gown and such?"

Jane bit her lip.

"My mother might."

"And _yourself_?" Charles teased.

Jane lowered her eyes, so Charles lifted her chin gently with a hand. He saw now such an expression: his Jane was smiling so sweetly, her eyes shining and her cheeks pink.

"I..." Jane began. "I can think of nothing nicer than being married to you. I do not mind what I wear."

Now how could Charles response to such sweetness, but with a kiss; and one slow and just as sweet.

As forehand lay on forehand, and eyes remained closed, Jane spoke quietly.

"But for Mamma we will wait a little while."

Charles spoke just as quiet in return, so not to disturb the dream.

"A little while... but Lord let it only be a little while."

Jane giggled.

"Of course."

He rewarded her with a "Good" and a peck on her nose. Catching her glistening eyes, he continued.

"For you see, dearest Jane, I should especially hate to be without you at Christmastide."

"And I without you."

* * *

Now unbeknownst to Charles and Jane, as was all too common in Longbourn, several sets of ears listened carefully through the drawing room door. Indeed Mrs Bennet was hushing a giggling Kitty, when Mr Bennet came upon them, having left the safety of his study. He shook his head: his women did always confound him so.

He whispered to his Elizabeth.

"Now what is going on here, Lizzy?"

She replied with a smirk.

"Ah, well my Lizzy, dear Mr Bingley must leave at some point, must he not?"

"Indeed, Papa"

With such said, Mr Bennet weaved his way past his daughters and wife, who shushed him as he reached the door.

When the door opened, the lovers almost jumped apart. There at the doorway stood a chuckling Mr Bennet, his wife and daughters awing behind him. Embarrassed, Charles swiftly stood and stuttered.

"Ah Mr Bennet... umm... it is getting rather late, I see now..." He waved a hand towards a window, shocked to see it as black as pitch. It really was late. "With your permission, Sir... I will take my leave."

"Right you are, Mr Bingley, I will make sure your horse is ready. But we will see you tomorrow, I think."

Charles smiled.

"Yes Sir, I'm afraid you will."

They all sat a moment or two; then a servant appeared to whisper that Mr Bingley's horse was ready. Once more, like yoyos, they all stood.

"We will be glad to see you often here, Mr Bingley." Said Mrs Bennet, as they paused in the vestibule for Mr Bingley to put on his coat and hat.

Before Charles could reply, Jane spoke quietly, seconding her mother's words. Hearing such, he believed he would fly back to Netherfield.

"Come then..." Said Mr Bennet, waving everyone out the front door.

Although the autumn air was cool, they gathered there a little while, just outside the house. And so it was with many a fond "Good night" and "Goodbye" that Mr Bingley rode from Longbourn that late evening, his Jane filling his mind. Jane herself hardly noticed the darkness around her and leant against a column and sighed, thinking of her love. Mrs Bennet may have been inclined to usher her back into the house sooner, in case she caught a chill, but just this once she returned inside silently and let her daughter have a moment to sigh and whisper into the night "Goodnight, my love".


	5. Sisterly Sympathy

Jane smiled to herself, as she replayed her dear parents' delight. They were both happy: her father teased and her mother rejoiced. Such was the sights and sounds of a minute or two before. Now she stood alone, yet her heart refused to still. It beat for him, her bearer of felicity.

Thoughts of his self soothed her soul. She sighed; and then felt a light weight settle on one shoulder. Calmly she turned her head. There was her Lizzy, her hand reaching out. Elizabeth let her fingers tickle the edge of her sister's neck. A few small notes of laughter seeped through Jane's lips – the sweet sound that signalled from dream she was awakening. She felt her cheeks ached with smiling.

"Oh Lizzy"

So soon the sisters arms wrapped around each other. Each sighed, looking out into the night. A light silence surrounded them. Elizabeth smiled to herself.

"Jane?

"Yes dear"

"May I call him _your_ Mr Bingley now?"

Jane lowered her head, she couldn't stop her lips from smiling. She giggled once more and, when her eyes rose, they were bright.

"I think you may."

"Good"

When a sizeable shiver slivered down Jane's spine, Elizabeth tightened her hold around her sister.

"Would you like to go inside?"

Jane sighed. With one last look to where her love had gone, she nodded her head, bringing her eyes around again to Elizabeth.

And so with arms around each other, they returned to the warmth of their childhood home.

The house was quiet. Individuals had fled to their own sanctuaries. Only happy murmurings could be heard, as our pair passed by their younger sisters' rooms.

When they reached their own room, they found the housemaid Sarah waiting for them. She curtsied.

"Excuse me, madams, Mrs Bennet told me to wait for you and help you ready for bed."

"Thank you, Sarah." Said Elizabeth. "But I think Jane and I shall get along by ourselves tonight…"

She looked to her sister for agreement. Jane smiled at the young woman.

"Elizabeth is right." She said. "It has been a late night for everyone, why don't you get off to sleep yourself."

"Thank you" Stuttered a smiling Sarah. She curtsied again, but before leaving the room, braved a small word. She addressed Jane.

"Miss Bennet,"

"Yes Sarah"

"I just wanted to say, to say congratulations, on your and Mr Bingley's engagement."

Jane smiled.

"Thank you, Sarah. That is very kind of you to say."

Sarah smiled too. After a little bob, she slipped from the room with a quiet "Sleep well, madams".

The door softly closed on a contented pair. Jane was truly happy and Elizabeth was happy for her sister. They quietly helped each other: removing hairpins, unlacing stays and eventually weaving long plaits secured with little ribbons. And the while most tenderly did they converse.

"You can deny it no longer, my dear, he loves you very much." Teased Elizabeth.

"I cannot." Said Jane, her soft voice still betraying slight surprise. "Oh, Lizzy, he does love me."

Elizabeth smiled back at her.

"Indeed he does."

She gently lifted a brush to her sister's hair, when her afresh her eyes shone. Her wit was enlightened, and so expressed:

"I fear your Mr Bingley is most terribly lovesick, Jane. He might explode with happiness at any moment."

Jane giggled again.

Elizabeth continued.

"And, I am afraid to say it, but I believe you yourself may have _caught the_ _Charles…_"

Now not even Jane's hands could stifle her laughter, as Elizabeth inflated her speech like an actor.

"…_it will cost you a thousand pound! ere a' be cured!"_

A merry play her sister has slipped into, a suiting play. So a willing Jane spoke the next line, if between her own smiles.

"_I will hold friends with you, Lady."_

Elizabeth giggled now. Most gratified was she that was her sister played along with her, even now.

_"Do, good friend."_ She replied.

Their shining eyes met in the mirror, and further lines vanished, replaced by unified long laughter.

When eventually subdued, Elizabeth finished Jane's hair. Settled again, Jane spoke sincerely.

"Lizzy, I hope you find next year's to be _a hot January_."

Elizabeth sighed with a smile: although comforted by sisterly appreciation, a lover's longing beset her still. With a brave breath, she spoke softly:

"As do I."

Her short words were hopeful.

Jane offered her sister a final hug – silent praise for her dearest sister – which a beholden Elizabeth received, with open arms and with an open heart.

A flame fluttered, as from open lips soon blew the breath which heightened night. Their long day, ended with sisterly sympathy, and closed with silent sleep. Lying together, each were to dream of their love.

* * *

_Quotes from Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing._


End file.
